Blood of my Dirty Blood
by Hiccupisnotuseless
Summary: Dagur has always been the perfect example of a Berserker. And for this, he cannot help to think about the disgusting and shameful reason of his hard and wished work to make the Berserkers again the rulers ofnthe war: his Father. Series of o e-shots about Dagur and his father, set before RoB. Rated T for violence and adult themes. Updating won' t be so frequenting due my vacations.


**Hello guys! How are you? I hope fine.**

**I know I've published so much stories, but when a story hits me like this ... I cannot help to write it!**

**I hope this will be an enjoyable story! Not a so great story, maybe ... but still good!**

**It is focused on one of the characters I like more of Httyd: Dagur the Deranged.**

**I think he is the best villain of the entire saga, better than Alvin!**

**Sometimes ago I thought, watching a DoB episode, about his past story and the hate for his father. So ...**

**After so many stories about Stoick and Hiccup, another father/son story.**

**But this time, it is about a so hard and terrible relationship between a father and a son ... really particular. **

**As I always do, Flashbacks and thoughts will be written in Italics.**

**I really hope you'll like this! There will be references also to the Books' saga!**

**I'm really sorry if you are bored by it or by its lenght.**

**Sincerely, **

**Hiccupisnotuseless**

**Unexpected Berserker**

"When you said me it, Dagur, I have to admit I never believed such a Runt could be so unpredictable. I've never seen something so unexpected like this! i couldn't! I couldn't! I couldn't, NO, I couldn't!", Norbert the Nutjob exclaimed, while he was walking with his cousin through the stone streets of the Hysterics' Island.

The red and bloody grins on the two crazy chiefs' faces meant that they were still furious and so mad for what happened three days ago.

Another miserable defeat, half of their armadas destroyed, and just one name to explain it: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III.

As always, after they had organized a great attack, with both of their armadas, which managed to defeat all the Dragon Riders and Berkians, it was thwarted by the intervention of the thin and genial heir of Berk and his Night Fury.

Their so wished destruction of Berk ... another time not seen.

The already fragile and crazy nerves of the Deranged chief were passing through a real terrible time.

Even if he was always anxious to find a way to harm and defeat the Useless runt of Berk, he was also a patient person.

The Waiting makes everything being tasted with much joy, he liked to say.

Actually, he was right, since many things are tasted better thanks to the waiting.

But as always happens, the waiting can make also more nervous, if you cannot arrive to the effective result.

And since Dagur couldn't see this result from two long years, he couldn't know for how much he could take his temper under control ...

Because this time, people should be more, more careful to not stay too much near the Deranged teen ... or he would not limited to "just" cut the legs off.

"How could I ever imagine this? A ... a ... a Runt like HIM managing to do ... this?! When I became chief of this Island, things were still the same! Strong Men were Strong Men, and Weak Men were Weak Men!

And now, a Revolution! A real revolution! A R- R- R- ... - unt like him ... destr- destroy my ar - ..."

Norbert couldn't end the phrase. His bloody and squinty eyes were now COMPLETELY red.

And after just a few minutes, a crazy and infuriated yell was heard from the high point of the stone street set on the highest point of the village, from which all the village could be seen. The yell was followed by a flying rock that arrived on one of village's houses, crashing the roof and the foot of his owner.

Norbert rubbed stressfully his eyes, and kept to walk, followed by the slow and heavy steps, and from the stern look of Dagur.

While they were walking, the chief of Hysterics rose his head and stopped soon to move, staring at who was in front of him.

Norbert's face revealed a small smile, and his eyes retuned to look normally at his wife, and at their baby heir sleeping peacefully in her arms.

The chief approached slowly them, and then put slowly his arm on the arm of his wife, and the other's fingers near the baby's head, touched gently with his fingertips the little cheek, careful to not wake up the infant.

"You should really take this more careful, my dear. Or you'll be more stressed and this could go on for weeks, like last year.", the tall woman said, looking at her husband with a serious look.

The Nutjob looked up at her, and smiled sympathetically.

"You are totally right, my love. But I assure you I had a ... right motive for acting so, dear. And besides, I'm not forgetting about my Island, don't worry. I won't hurt anyone this time, I swear."

"I'm not worried just about the Island.", the young woman replied, and looked down at the small form in her arms.

Norbert looked at the baby too, and an expression of realization crossed his face, alongside a surprised expression.

"But you know I don't want HIM hurt, you know it, dear! I'd give all my wealth for our little treasure. You know it. I am right, right?", he asked looking hopefully at the woman.

She looked at him, and then nodded silently.

"I know it, love. Yes, you're right."

He smiled again, and then said:-"But you had to see this, dear! A boy, thin as an anchovy, weak as an ant, that managed to control a dragon and to destroy half of our fleets! I mean, everyone could get so ... so ... you know what I mean, even you could get really worried and furious like a Nightmare if a boy like him could manage to destroy a naval fleet! Sure, this learnt to me to be more careful about everyone, and I mean EVERYONE in all the Archipelago! Things like this revolutionized the story! I cannot believe at what I was seeing! Am I right, cousin?"

The two spouses turned to look at Dagur, who looked at them with a surprised look, before answering with a sigh:-"Yes, you're right, cousin. Someone like him is a very unexpected revelation in Viking History!"

Norbert nodded, and his wife looked at the Deranged cousin of his husband, and said:-"But I think also you need to calm a bit down, dear Dagur. I mean, two chiefs in an uncontrolled state couldn't be a great help for this Island."

Dagur looked at her raising his eyebrows, but then sighed lowering the head and said:-"You're right as always, my dear."

The two spouses then turned and reprised to walk near each other, his arm around her shoulders in a protective way, talking between them.

Dagur stood where he was, and sighed heavily.

Norbert and his spouse were both definitely right.

Hiccup was surely a human innovation for the Viking world.

And Dagur could be considered one of the Vikings who knew a lot about the argument.

Because he was the son of one of the most unexpected, incredible and disgusting Vikings of ever.

* * *

He remembered very well how he had to deal for the first time with a such particular innovation.

The Berserkers were known for many things, but never someone could imagine that in their Island could be one of the most unexpected things of ever: a Library.

Actually, Vikings weren't ignorant to this, since all of them had read at least two books in all their life.

But it was unexpected that Berserkers were the Vikings with a Library.

For ages, long ages, they had conquered and killed more islands than ever.

People wanted to pack and run away from their home, instead that waiting for the day when the Berserkers' first ship was seen at the horizon.

Every step of the Berserkers on the Island, was a villager in less.

And when they returned home ... their armoury was probably the reddest of all the armouries.

In fact, it was called by Bork the Bold "the Blood Deposit".

When their weapons hit the meat of a more men, the yells of the victims were heard even by the Scauldrons in the deepest zones of the sea.

At least, it was said so.

Since when they existed, no one Berserker was known for be a merciful and respectful warrior.

They were the Perfect Vikings, the proudest, the strongest, the most powerful of all the Archipelago.

Nobody could resist to them, and a lot of people were convinced about the fact that one day all the Vikings could seriously have the idea to escape to the foreign lands of West, and leave all the Archipelago in the bloody hands of the Berserkers.

Tales like these could get excited all the ones who wanted to be Vikings in the only way a Viking could be.

Especially the young members of the Berserkers.

Since when they were born, they were raised to be future rulers of the Archipelago, the only who could conquer and have to their feet the Islands for the eternity.

And something unexpected for them as the already mentioned library meant a lot, since in it were documented all the "heroic" deeds of the greatest members of the tribe.

And this couldn't help to grow the interest of a young and a too bit exuberant lad.

But maybe this could be understood very well, since this boy was destined to bring and keep the Berserker people.

Dagur, son of the chief Oswald.

A smart and vigorous lad who couldn't help to think every single moment of his still young life about what he'd brought with him in all his years as chief.

For this he was in the library. Sure not to waste time reading some of the most beautiful books.

Besides, the library didn't have any of these scripts of "high level".

No, the only books you could find in that library were just about the supreme arts.

From books about the most lethal weapons to books about the oldest fighting ways, and then about the important art of beating and gutting a dragon ... every single scale.

Dagur's face almost every time remained in the same state for a long period: with a great, hopeful, joyful smile.

His sister said that sometime she could see that so large smile also while he was sleeping.

Maybe it was because he was dreaming the most beautiful dreams of his young life.

And actually for Dagur was so.

His nights were always passed with the company of the most important and greatest Berserkers leaders.

Dagur was always on a ship black as the night, watching excitedly its approaching to another Island.

And when it came nearer, he heard what he wanted to hear: the Berserker Yell.

When he heard it, he turned quickly behind him to watch the men run fastly, spears and axes in the hands, like a crew of sadistic pirates.

But even the pirates could be frightened by the Berserkers, at the point to let their boats sunk with them still on it.

Dagur was convinced of this, and his joy grew more when he saw HIM running on the deck and jumping with his axe in the hand on the land to not leave his soldiers doing the "work" in the wrong way, but to show them the Perfect Berserk way.

His great - great - great grandfather, Boris the Grinder.

Black beard, very black long hair, a very well built Viking body, a black armour with big spines on all of it that made him seem like he was a black rose.

And in his right hand, heavy and at the first sight absolutely normal, an axe grey as the clouds, but sharpened like a shark's teeth, swinging without stopping, sharpened at the point it could cut off the head of a man in less than three seconds. His most loyal friend.

He has called it the Bloodknapper. Strange name, but that could easily made everyone think about what that weapon could do if it approached more them.

Dagur watched him excited like a baby with his first toy.

The yell of Boris made all the Berserkers yell louder, and run hurriedly with their weapons towards the useless and weak Vikings, every time from a different village.

After Boris, Dagur kept to observe, and his heart beat fastly in the moment he noticed another wonderful Berserker inciting the others with a war yell.

Like his great-great-great aunt, Blackrose, who wore similar to Boris, with a black armour, and that had on her face a fearing and strange violet colour. All her face was violet, like poison, and made her more frightening.

And when her sword was rose up to the sky, it was like the people saw the sky falling, because the fury of Blackrose was fast and lethal like a black meteor, when she did her favourite attack: jumping from an high point and made the enemy turn hurriedly when it heard the noise of her voice ... only to have the sword passing through his/her head.

And after her, Dagur couldn't help to search more of them between the fighting army.

And so he managed to find another legendary hero, Karder the Swimmer.

He wasn't a chief or a member of the principal family of the Village, but he was respected and remembered as one of the strongest Berserkers of ever.

During a battle the Berserkers could probably lose, he demonstrated that a Berserker could be strong in Every moment, if he needed to save Berserkers' honour.

When the Berserkers' chief ship was coming back home after defeating the famous and lethal tribe of the Rock Eaters, and they were all hurt and bleeding from all the body, they made an unexpected encounter: a ship from Meatheads.

When the Meatheads noticed that the ship and its occupants could easily be sent to Hell without so much sforce, they didn't waste time to approach it and to get ready to shot the arrows to the helpless Vikings.

Sure they'd think that probably they could become the most important and respected tribe of the entire Archipelago, when the notice of their heroic deed against the so hated Berserkers was arrived to every Island.

But sadly for them, Berserkers were Perfect Vikings, and this meant they couldn't have any choice against them. In fact, not seen by anyone, even if his back was killing him, one of the Berserkers managed to dive in the water, and then started to swim towards the ship of the Meatheads.

And Dagur can only imagine the shock of the Meatheads, when they realized their ship was sinking!

Karder didn't manage to return home alive, but his memory was honoured by the entire tribe, first of all the chief, to be a fantastic and perfect example to all the future generations of Berserkers.

And as dagur kept to admire and enjoy this sight, at the end if ti he could see, or at least he imagined it with all his heart, his ancestors and heroes smiling proudly at him and nodding firmly giving him their approval

The young chief's son kept to dream this every night, wondering about which great deeds he'd do to be remembered in the ages from his tribe so that everyone'd follow his example and make the Berserkers stronger and stronger.

And sure he'd do it, after his father could let him doing it.

As every heir, Dagur had to wait patiently that his father was unable to rule anymore.

And this didn't make him bored or disappointed; it made him ecstatic and hopeful.

These long years could give him the possibility of a create his new life, to think about which constructive and special deeds he could do for his tribe.

And there wasn't anyone better example than his father.

Oswald was the perfect man for this, as the actual living chief.

And Dagur was so happy because he was his only SON!

He was the son of a great warrior, of a BERSERKER chief, the only type of Viking that could show to everyone how a Viking needed to be.

And Dagur couldn't be happier and grateful to be the son of a Berserker chief.

His eyes focused on those books could probably let tears the day he'd read about his father's deeds, the same deeds that'd learn him how to be a Berserker.

And when Dagur exited from the library after so many times he passed there, he smelled the air as if it a different air: the air of change.

After his ninth birthday, he considered himself old enough to start to put his nose in his father's business, and to talk about what a good Berserker always talked.

So, if he passed near a warrior, he always asked if he was ok and if he was well rested, if in his family was all ok.

Usually the answers were always good, and Dagur always found a well rested warrior who presented all the characteristics of a Berserker.

And keeping on with his questions, Dagur was feeling so proud of them.

But soon, maybe too soon, he'd find out something really ... unexpected.

Unexpected like has never believed.

When he asked to some people if their weapons were ready to be used perfectly.

At that, the warriors answered with a sigh and a resigned smile.

At the beginning Dagur was really confused by this.

Probably he had heard wrong, or maybe they were just stupid people.

Sure he had to go to his father and telling him about the strange attitude of his warriors.

When he met his father, he tried to say something about this, he couldn't manage to do this.

So he simply shrugged the shoulders and returned to his business.

But just after sometime, he came through something that shocked his life so much.

He couldn't believe ... he couldn't ever Imagine what was in front of him.

A wind of change.

A strange wind of change.

A wind that brought a change ... that made him desire to be in a dream.

Dagur saw clearly that his Island was changing.

His father called it a better change.

Dagur called it a worst change.

All of this started when his father came out with a decision that'd made the Berserkers' life not the same.

That decision made all the principal weapons closed in the armoury, the entire fleet docked without the possibility to go anywhere, the entire army ... useless.

Dagur slowly managed to find out that those warriors he had interrogated weren't stupid.

That those weapons were not ready to any fight.

That being so young, he had never noticed what his father had done all those years before he born.

And he had never realized that those men have almost NEVER gone somewhere to killing and plundering villages.

He thought that maybe they didn't do it because of the weather, or because the villages that were still in war with them now were really few.

But then he realized that when his father came back from his trips, he has never brought any treasure, any prisoner, any BLOODY weapon!

It was true. It was sadly too.

Berserkers were slowly becoming a new people, a new weak, shocking, annoying, sad ... normal people.

After CENTURIES of immortality, the gods were becoming humans.

The traditions and the heroic deeds were being thrown in a desolate cemetery in the minds of every Berserker, from where the lonely and desperate moans of their ancestors were trying to catch their attention and were inviting to free them ... to free their real Berserkers souls.

All was slowly ending.

All because of one Berserker man. And not just any Berserker man.

HIS FATHER!

Dagur grin didn't came out anymore from his face.

His face didn't reveal any happy feeling.

And his heart didn't contain Hope anymore.

Because the young boy has just known what was the heroic deed that could have made his father remembered for ages: PEACE.

PEACE.

Oswald wanted the PEACE!

A word that has always made Dagur looking disappointed and almost disgusted.

His father didn't want to make Berserkers stronger, to make them more feared than before.

He hadn't any interest in this; he didn't want to be remembered as a Nightmare for all the Vikings.

He didn't want to have his men glorified for the many battles against the most lethal enemies in the Archipelago.

No, Oswald wanted to change the look of Berserkers forever.

Dagur soon understood that so his life ... couldn't be the same to live!

He understood that so his heroic deeds could be thrown in the deepest part of his mind, and of his heart.

He understood that this couldn't make him a great and Perfect Berserker.

He understood he couldn't have any possibility, with a tribe like this.

A glorious and immortal tribe transformed in a normal tribe. Just one of the many Viking tribes.

He felt his heart breaking in more pieces.

He felt all his world falling down with him on the ground.

He saw his heroes saying him goodbye.

He saw all those books being replaced by other types of books his father brought by trips with other Islands.

He saw that he couldn't be understood and estimated by anyone now.

He saw he could be anything else than the son of a normal chief.

He saw his destiny as peacemaker, and not as ruler.

He saw his Island falling down, rock after rock, tree after tree, house after house.

All of this made him desire to living really in his dreams, to live as a real Berserker.

He was ready to cry; and Vikings don't cry!

And so, slowly, he realized there was something to be fixed.

He saw that he wasn't a weak.

He saw he had what he needed to fix everything.

He saw he had the possibility to be a real Viking.

He saw he could still maintain the soul of his ancestors.

He saw that he still could show what a real Berserker was.

He saw his father had to be helped to find again his real one.

He saw he was the real Hope and Heir of BERSERKERS.

**Sad, I know. But hard stuff will be showed in the next chapters. So get ready, and again sorry if you are bored by its content or by its lenght or anything else.**

**I'm sure you didn't expect Norbert the Nutjob. But even if I hate the books of Httyd (sorry, but I cannot stand them), I find the characters interesting. And reading about Norbert, I found him the equivalent of Dagur in the books. So, I've decided to put him as a relative of him. I hope sincerely you, fans of the books, won't be annoyed by this.**

**I'll make you wait a bit beofre returning on this story, because I'm actually working on something about it and I have to see if it can be put in it.**

**Advices about language are really accepted. And if you have any idea about an episode between Dagur and his Father, say it without hesitate!**

**You're all great.**

**Hiccupisnotuseless**


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